


this town is only gonna get worse

by swimthewholeriogrande



Series: i'd be home with you [4]
Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Claustrophobia, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-15 15:40:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18672613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swimthewholeriogrande/pseuds/swimthewholeriogrande
Summary: The beginning of the end.





	this town is only gonna get worse

**Author's Note:**

> Someone suggested I do a little excerpt of the beginning of the whole ordeal so here it is! I'm gonna do all the stuff that people request/requested on the last bit, so please comment! Thanks for reading!  
> Title from Bloody Shirt by To Kill a King

Jake has blood on his teeth. 

That's the first thing that Amy notices when she wakes up, the first alarm bell that wails; his face is very close to hers and there is blood on his teeth. The second thing is that she can't move at all, and it's because of Jake's bulk, she realizes, his body on her body, crammed down on top of her like he's being pushed down.

And she can see his teeth and his closed eyes because of a small, yellow light in the corner of the car boot. It's the trunk of a car, shaking and rumbling around them both, and she doesn't remember a thing.

Amy surges up instinctively, panic filling the spaces between her ribs and twining tight around them, but she can barely twitch. Jake's head lolls on to her neck, and she can feel his slow breathing on her throat; he's alive, at least, but his body is effectively pinning her as well as any restraints. She gets the feeling she isn't supposed to be awake right now. 

Think. Think. Amy scrapes around the dark space in her memory and comes up empty. She has no idea how long they've been in this boot which is certainly too small to hold two fully grown adults and oh, wow, she still has claustrophobia, huh? She thought she'd gotten past that but turns out as she lies in this trunk, this _tomb_ , that her throat is getting tight with fear anyway. Her fingernails scratch at the cheap carpeted ground; it hums against her, a thing alive, taking them somewhere she surely doesn't want to go.

"Jake," she wheezes; he's getting heavier by the second. "Jake. Wake up."

He doesn't move. His head is blocking the light now and the dimness is making her mouth dry. She feels sleepy and discombobulated but she can't sleep, she has to get them out of this. "Jake," Amy tries again, but it's no use. 

Her eyelids are slipping. Jake's pulse beats against her whole body, and she loses time.

-

Jake wants to know just who this guy thinks he is. 

Because he's woken up in this weird little surburban living room with his hands cuffed behind his back to a pipe, and chemical-smelling vomit all down the front of his shirt, and Amy five feet away from him looking scared out of his mind and this guy, this stranger, is talking like it's normal. He is telling them to settle in, settle down, _keep their mouths shut before he does it for them_ -

Jake spits at his feet and pulls hard at the bindings until his wrists hurt. "We're NYPD detectives," he snaps, and it's not perfect negotiating etiquette but this isn't the perfect situation, "you need to let us go before this gets worse."

Amy is shaking, a snared rabbit, and he can't reach her. "We can help you," she chimes in, "we can get you what you need."

The man snorts. He turns away from them and starts fiddling with a TV remote. "I have what I need." he replies. "Now be quiet."

Cheers starts on the television. Jake squirms and swallows hard. His mouth tastes awful. "Get us a phone," he says as calmly as he can, "and we can call people who will help you get out of this situation. We don't want this to end with anyone getting hu-"

The backhand comes so fast that Jake bites his tongue and floods his mouth with iron. Amy makes a sharp, scared sound, and the man looks furious, his calm demeanour slipping off him like rags.

There is a lighter in his back pocket and he pulls it out. "What did I just say?" he snarls, and Jake smells it before he sees the man burn Amy's hand.

He will always know that smell, from that day on. He never forgets it.

(And Amy weeps. Jake sometimes thinks that she never really stopped.)


End file.
